


The Wicked Game

by dracoqueen22



Series: Defiance [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Dehumanization, Forced Voyeurism, Humiliation, Kidnapping, M/M, Read at Your Own Risk, Sex Toys, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Torture, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 14:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4790381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatronus leaves the safety of the underground to search for his missing friend and gets more than he bargained for when he stumbles into the path of the Winglord and his trine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wicked Game

He had no idea where to start.  
  
Megatronus was certain Orion had come to the surface, but he did not know where the errant dataworker had gone. There were no tracks to follow, the wind had seen to that. It had also made scent-tracing impossible. Landscape pings returned with a dizzying array of details, too much to make sense of.  
  
He was on his own. He wished he'd thought to bring Jazz or Barricade with him. Either would have been useful. But the larger the group, the greater chance of being spotted by the flyers.  
  
He wandered for two full solar cycles, keeping to the shade in the blistering heat of day-cycle and relying on his headlights to ease the gloom of night-cycle.  
  
The Seekers were monsters. They were dangerous. He did not know if they would kill Orion. It was getting harder and harder to trust the stories.  
  
He did not know where Orion could have gone. He had no map of the surroundings. But he had an idea of where to look. He could see the Winglord's city on the horizon. The Winglord's tower was the highest, the penthouse suite disappearing into the clouds.  
  
Megatronus told himself he was not afraid. He had nothing to fear of those screeching harpies in the sky.  
  
Until they found him two days later. A trine – they seemed to always come in threes according to the stories – jetting by overhead. Megatronus hunkered down, ducking beneath an overhang. He peered into the sky through a crack in the rock.  
  
How could he have known one of them would have some kind of sonic ability? One so strong that it not only shattered the rock around him, but left him disoriented and weak?  
  
Megatronus picked himself up from the debris. He staggered out, audials ringing, vision distorted. His armor was pockmarked with dents, but he was a miner, he was built to take a hit. He tasted energon on his glossa.  
  
Where... he had to find...  
  
Orion?  
  
Three thumps. Three shapes, all larger than his own.  
  
Megatronus reeled. His vision wavered. They drew closer to him, one of them laughing. One was black and purple. One a pale blue. The last was red and silver and blue. He had a gold crown on his helm.  
  
Megatronus knew this one. Every underdweller knew this one.  
  
The Winglord.  
  
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” the purple one said.  
  
Megatronus snarled. He extended one of his blades and pulled out the hand pistol he'd stolen from Ironhide. It leapt into his fingers, fully charged. His vision wobbled; he couldn't aim properly. His first shot went wild.  
  
They laughed.  
  
“Another grounder? They've been bold lately, haven't they?” asked the blue one.  
  
They surrounded him. It was the Winglord who remained in front of Megatronus, who looked down on him with a sneer. He planted his hands on his hips.  
  
“You're a long way from home,” the Winglord purred. He strode closer and easily danced back as Megatronus took a wild swing at him. He was uncoordinated, dizzy, and all he managed was an awkward stagger.  
  
Frag it.  
  
“Can we keep him?” one of them chirped.  
  
“We don't need another one,” the other said.  
  
Another one? Could it be?  
  
The Winglord, however, thumbed his chin, tilting his helm to the side. “No, we don't,” he said. “But there is something about this one as well. Take it.”  
  
“No!” Megatronus brought up his blaster, squeezing off another shot, but the Winglord thrust into the air, avoiding it in the blink of an optic.  
  
Two frames collided against him on either side, wrestling him down. They grabbed his arms, twisting them behind his back. They shoved him face forward into the dirt. He snarled and thrashed and lashed out, but their combined strength kept him down.  
  
The cold chill of stasis cuffs snapped around his wrists. His arms went numb. He dropped his blaster. His sword retracted on its own.  
  
Megatronus snarled. “Release me!”  
  
The Winglord stood over him, his frame blocking out the heat of the sun, and for a moment, Megatronus longed for the cold, safe dark of the undercity, Iacon.  
  
“In time perhaps,” the Winglord said. “Skywarp, Thundercracker, shut it up. Let's go.”  
  
“Sir, yes, sir,” chirped the one with purple and black paint.  
  
The other cycled a ventilation and puffed hot air down on Megatronus. “Whatever you say, Lord Starscream.”  
  
Megatronus thrashed. He howled. It was as ineffective as the rest of his resistance. And then the blue one brought out a small, black box. It was no bigger than Megatronus' thumb. He put it on Megatronus' forehelm and his world went dark.  
  


0o0o0

  
  
Megatronus rebooted slowly, feeling as if he'd been involved in another cave-in. His helm ached and his frame did as well. His sensory suites were slow to online and he groaned, trying to roll over.  
  
His hands wouldn't move. Confused, Megatronus tugged on them again, only to realize that they'd been bound together above his helm. He wasn't lying down either. He was on his knees.  
  
What the frag...?  
  
His short-term memory tapped him for attention. He'd come to the surface to search for Orion. He'd found nothing for days only to have the unfortunate luck to run into a trine of Seekers. One of them had been the Winglord.  
  
They'd taken him.  
  
His sensory suites chose that moment to boot, audials first and then his optics. His visual feed filed with static before clarifying. Megatronus squinted as bright light glared down at him. Wherever they were, it was open to the sun. It made him cringe and draw into himself.  
  
He wasn't alone.  
  
“Wakey, wakey,” someone said in a singsong voice as fingers rapped on his helm. “We've got some questions for you.”  
  
It was the dark purple one. Megatronus glared at him and jerked his helm away. “Don't touch me!” he snarled.  
  
“Feisty, isn't it?” another voice commented. Megatronus' gaze slid away, noticing the pale blue Seeker nearby.  
  
“And talkative, I should hope,” came a third voice, this one Megatronus recognized as the Winglord.  
  
Megatronus turned his helm the other direction, searching for the Winglord, but his optics fell on another frame instead. Oh, the Winglord was certainly here, his smirk only serving to infuriate Megatronus.  
  
But there was someone else.  
  
Realization struck him like a bad batch of high grade. His optics widened.  
  
Visible just beyond Starscream was Orion. He was kneeling as well, his arms cuffed behind his back. There was a strip of thick metal mesh over his optics and a ball gag in his mouth, the strap wrapped around his helm so he couldn't push it free with his glossa.  
  
He was slumped, helm drooping forward, nearly concealing the collar around his intake. A chain was attached to to the back of said collar and it connected to a hook above him. Both kept Orion on his knees. Megatronus could also see a hint of something beneath Orion, like a prop to keep him upright.  
  
Worse was Orion's appearance. His lovely paint was scored by scratches and scrapes. Multiple dents marred his plating. His lips were puffy and swollen around the gag. Megatronus could hear him ventilating, but each ex-vent rattled.  
  
The Winglord stepped in front of Megatronus, cutting off his view of Orion. Megatronus looked up, hatred in his optics.  
  
“Why did you come to the surface?” the Winglord asked. He lowered himself to a crouch and peered into Megatronus' face. “I find it strange that in all the decades, grounder sightings have been erratic. But in the past month, we found not one, but two who dare venture up here. So tell me why you are here.”  
  
Megatronus pressed his lips together. He had nothing to say to winged scum.  
  
“Hey, Star,” the purple Seeker said, moving in Megatronus' peripheral vision. “Our other toy's waking up. Want to play with him?”  
  
“Not right now, Skywarp.” The Winglord's wings flicked, his face pulling into a frown. He looked irritated. “This is more important.”  
  
“Suit yourself. TC, come give me a hand.”  
  
“No.” The blue one came into view, standing beside the Winglord with his arms crossed over his chest. “I'm curious as well. Why are the grounders suddenly brave enough to venture from their holes?”  
  
“Neither of you are any fun!” Skywarp whined. Megatronus could not see the purple Seeker, but he could hear the slide of metal against metal and the rattle of a chain. He also heard a low, pained moan.  
  
Orion.  
  
His hands drew into fists and he fixed a glare up at the Winglord. “Release us,” Megatronus growled. “You have no right to keep us here!”  
  
“On the contrary.” The Winglord tapped his chin with a clawed digit. “I seem to remember the treaty stating that we are within our right to claim any grounder who dares enter our territory. Is that not right, Thundercracker?”  
  
“It is.” Red optics gleamed as they considered Megatronus. “It is sturdier than the other as well. Better suited, I think, to my tastes.”  
  
Megatronus' engine rumbled. His hands clenched into tight fists.  
  
“We are living beings. You can not treat others like this!” he snarled.  
  
“That is where you are mistaken.” The Winglord leaned forward and grabbed Megatronus' chin, forcing his helm up until he could only look into the Winglord's crimson optics. “You, like the rest of your kind, are beneath me and mine. And I shall show you.”  
  
He released Megatronus' chin with a flick of his fingers and whirled toward Thundercracker, his wings snapping against his back. “Thundercracker, gag him. His speeches are irritating.”  
  
Thundercracker smirked. “With pleasure.”  
  
Megatronus growled and yanked on his chains. “You are nothing special!” he spat as the Winglord strode toward Orion who looked to be rousing at last. Skywarp had removed both gag and blindfold. Orion's optics were dim and hazy.  
  
Drugged probably. Or worse. Perhaps they were starving him of energon. He did look much thinner than Megatronus was accustomed to. Orion had always been slender, but this appeared unhealthy.  
  
“You are no different than us!” Megatronus added with another heavy jerk to his chains. The hook above him rattled but didn't budge. “You are not blessed! You are of Cybertron, the same as the rest of us!”  
  
“Thundercracker,” the Winglord hissed, his wings drawing taut. He stalked to Orion's side and placed his hand on Orion's helm, a proprietary touch.  
  
A hand grabbed Megatronus' helm from behind, jerking it back. He tried to pull free, but Thundercracker's claws dug in, relentless. That was when the gag appeared in front of him.  
  
He snapped his mouth shut, gritting his denta. They would not silence him!  
  
Thundercracker gripped him with thumb and forefinger, applying a perfect pressure to his jaw hinge. Pain erupted. Pressure warnings lit up his HUD. Megatronus growled deep in his chassis, but it did little good. Thundercracker forced his mouth open and shoved the hard, metallic sphere passed his lips.  
  
Megatronus' glossa was pinned to the bottom of his oral cavity. The sphere forced his jaw open, left his lips peeled back around the edges so that oral lubricant could dribble free. Thundercracker quickly tied the straps behind his helm, cinching them tight enough to cause a mild ache.  
  
Try as he might, Megatronus could not engage his vocalizer. The downward pressure of his bottom jaw prevented him from doing so. At best, he could grunt.  
  
“Much better,” the Winglord purred. He curled a hand around Orion's helm, cupping him under the jaw and forcing him to look in Megatronus' direction. “Now I won't have to listen to you whine as you see just how little you are worth to us.”  
  
Skywarp circled around to Orion's back. He knelt there and wrapped his arms around Orion from behind. His hands wandered, however, fingers stroking Orion's recessed spike as he rocked against Orion's back. He nibbled on Orion's audial and Orion's optics brightened by several more degrees.  
  
Anger burned in Megatronus like an inferno. How dare they touch what didn't belong to them? How dare they do that to another being?  
  
“I love him like this,” Skywarp said with a stupid little sigh. “He's so compliant after you keep him in sense dep, TC.”  
  
“I suspect the other one will benefit from it, too,” Thundercracker replied with a dark grunt. He released Megatronus but not without a patronizing pat to the top of Megatronus' helm. “It's sturdy. I can use my stronger tools.”  
  
“Ohhh.” Skywarp moaned and pressed harder against Orion's back. “I can't wait to watch.”  
  
Orion made a little noise, like a whimper. His frame rocked forward as though trying to escape, but Skywarp pulled him back. The chains rattled.  
  
“Ah, ah, ah,” Skywarp said with a biting nip to the top of Orion's audial. “Remember what I said? Behave or you don't get any energon.”  
  
Orion made another distressed noise.  
  
The Winglord stroked his cheek with a thumb. “Come now, pet. You should be relieved. You aren't alone anymore. Do you see what we've found today. Come on. Take a look.” His tone was baldly condescending. It made Megatronus' tanks roil.  
  
Orion was obedient. His dim gaze followed where the Winglord pointed and when his optics fell on Megatronus, taking a distressingly long moment to recognize him, they widened.  
  
Megatronus could not so much as warn him, could not tell him to hold his glossa and be silent.  
  
“Megatronus?” Orion asked, vocals hoarse as though he rarely used them. Or perhaps it had something to do with the bruising around his intake.  
  
“Oh?” The Winglord's optics brightened and he looked down with a bright smirk. “You know our new pet then? How intriguing.”  
  
Megatronus' engine rumbled with threat. His knees scraped at the floor.  
  
Orion's optics widened as though he'd realized his mistake. He clamped his mouth shut, gaze dropping to the floor.  
  
“Tell me, pet, how do you know this Megatronus?” the Winglord purred. He gripped Orion's chin firmly, forcing him to look up. “Are you close?”  
  
Orion trembled. His lips pressed together.  
  
Skywarp chuckled and dropped one of his hands down to Orion's valve. He pinched at the swollen anterior node, making Orion's hips jerk.  
  
“Come on, pet, behave now. Tell Starscream what he wants to know.”  
  
A low whine worked through Orion's vocalizer. “N-no,” he spat with a surge of static.  
  
The Winglord laughed. “Oh, methinks your pet is lying, Skywarp.”  
  
“I think so, too.” Skywarp pinched Orion's anterior node harder and Orion jolted, a pathetic sound eking from his vocalizer. “At least this answers the question of why 'Megatronus' is up here.”  
  
“Looking for this little one, no doubt.” The Winglord flashed a grin Megatronus' direction, his fingers stroking Orion's face. “You are not kin, judging by your build and your marks. Are you lovers?”  
  
Megatronus worked his intake. He bit down on the sphere, forcing himself to be still, to give nothing away.  
  
Orion, too, pressed his lips together. His hazy gaze met Megatronus' as best it could, apology glimmering behind his optics.  
  
Starscream sighed. “Thundercracker, see if you can convince our pet to answer me.”  
  
Beside Megatronus, the blue Seeker rumbled approval. “With pleasure, my lord.” He moved, something Megatronus could only see from his peripheral vision.  
  
There was a rustle and a click. Megatronus tried to turn his helm but couldn't see beyond his raised arm.  
  
Something jabbed him in the side, electric fire nosing between his armor plates and directly into his softer substructure. His entire frame spasmed. He groaned around the gag, oral lubricant drooling out of the corners of his mouth.  
  
An energon prod! The slagging Seeker had an energon prod!  
  
Megatronus' vision swam. He heard pedesteps. Thundercracker's presence shifted around him. He heard the crackle of electricity.  
  
Pain slammed into his other side, the prod slipping so easily through his seams to scorch his protoform beneath. A helpless sound worked its way from his vocalizer. Megatronus' denta ground on the gag. He smelled burnt metal.  
  
“No,” Orion moaned, his frame tipping forward before Skywarp dragged him back again. “Stop hurting him.”  
  
Through a haze, Megatronus saw Starscream lean over, his face within inches of Orion's. “Then do not lie to me again. You are lovers, yes?”  
  
Orion's intake bobbed. His optics shuttered. “No,” he answered, with a sharp intake of breath. “And that's not a lie! We're not. He's my friend.”  
  
“Friend!” Skywarp barked a laugh and rubbed two fingers over Orion's anterior node. “Young and naive, aren't you? No one comes up here for a friend, pet.”  
  
Starscream chuckled. “Indeed. That will make this even more fun, don't you think?”  
  
“I do,” Thundercracker said.  
  
His dark vocals purred behind Megatronus before the energon prod nudged against Megatronus' spinal strut, making him convulse on his knees. The intensity was much lower than before, but it was still unpleasant.  
  
Starscream fluttered his wings and rose to his full height. “Now, Thundercracker. Orion did answer our questions. It would be unfair to continue.”  
  
“It barely hurt,” Thundercracker retorted.  
  
“Even so.” Starscream patted Orion's helm and stroked his other hand down his own frame. He palmed his pelvic, rubbing on his spike panel. “We should be at least somewhat polite, yes?”  
  
Thundercracker grumbled, but Megatronus heard the click as he powered down the energon prod. Megatronus' internals quivered. His cables relaxed by degrees. He was not safe, but at least the pain would stop.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Starscream smirked and turned his attention to Orion. He stroked Orion's faceplate with the back of his hand. “You would like a reward, wouldn't you, pet?”  
  
Orion's intake bobbed. His gaze wandered to Megatron and then back to Starscream. He pressed his lips together.  
  
“So stubborn,” Starscream murmured. “I believe you know what to say, don't you?”  
  
A distressed noise warbled in the back of Orion's intake. “I...” His expression crumpled. His shoulders hunched. “Please, don't...”  
  
“You're so pretty when you beg,” Skywarp said as he nibbled on Orion's audial. “But you know what Star wants and you know what happens if you don't give it to him.”  
  
A whine built in Orion's chassis. His frame shrank.  
  
“Thank you for the encouragement, Skywarp,” Starscream said in a dry tone before he stroked Orion's lips. “Go on, my pet.”  
  
Orion shuddered. “I… I would kneel before you, Winglord,” he said, his words rasped with static. “I would worship your panel with the adoration you deserve.”  
  
Starscream purred, his wings flickering. Behind Orion, Skywarp snickered, but didn't say anything. “Continue,” Starscream said.  
  
Orion hunched even further. “I would beg that you extend your spike, that I may taste the mercy you offer me.” His vocals took on an edge of rote, bleak though they were. “I am grateful for the honor of servicing your spike. I am nothing but your humble servant.”  
  
His optics shuttered and he parted his lips, his glossa extending as though in eager supplication.  
  
Megatronus yanked on his chains, unable to vocalize anything more than a negative grunt.  
  
The Winglord extended his spike, stroked the head of it against Orion's lips and glossa, then pushed into Orion's mouth with a low moan of pleasure.  
  
“Such a good pet,” Starscream murmured.  
  
“Obedient at least,” Skywarp said and he rutted harder against Orion's back. He reached down between Orion's legs, pulling a thick toy from his valve.  
  
Lubricant dripped down, making quite a mess. Skywarp flicked the toy away, and it rolled across the floor, leaving fluid drips behind. It was massive, more than Megatronus expected Orion could take, but Orion didn't so much as flinch when Skywarp replaced the toy with his spike in one harsh push.  
  
Orion's intake worked as Starscream thrust into his mouth, not gently, but slowly, as though he wanted to savor the experience, but didn't much care if Orion was bruised or not. He kept a firm grip on Orion's helm, his hips working steadily.  
  
Skywarp's hands were busier. They roamed over Orion's frame. One stayed on his anterior node, pinching and plucking at it, making Orion's hips jerk. The other clamped on Orion's chestplate, scraping between the gap of his windshields to the thinner armor beneath.  
  
Orion had shuttered his optics. His expression was blank, and from this distance, Megatronus couldn't feel his field.  
  
“Very good,” Starscream purred. “You are improving, pet.” His hand stroked over Orion's helm. He pushed himself into Orion's mouth until Orion's lips met the base plate of his spike.  
  
Orion made a low noise of discomfort. His upper body seized. His shoulders shook, but Starscream held himself for several minutes more, circling his hips. Finally, he allowed Orion to draw back and Orion coughed around his spike, dribbles of lubricant seeping from the corners of his mouth.  
  
“I just love the way he squeezes me, you know,” Skywarp said with a low moan. His optics dimmed and he mouthed at Orion's audials. “He's always so tight.”  
  
“He can be taught,” Starscream mused aloud. His hand stroked over Orion's helm. “He was a good acquisition, Skywarp.”  
  
The purple Seeker beamed up at his Winglord. “I have the best taste.”  
  
“In toys at least,” Starscream said and he rocked his hips again, pushing more firmly into Orion's mouth. “Use your glossa, pet. I expect you to swallow it all.”  
  
Megatronus ground down on the gag so hard that he heard the metal screech together. His chains rattled. He offlined his optics, forcing himself to look away. He could do nothing to help Orion, but the least he could do was save Orion further humiliation.  
  
“Oy.”  
  
Pain lashed across his face. His helm snapped to the side. Megatronus' optics snapped back open as a clawed hand gripped his chin, forcefully turning his helm back toward Orion.  
  
“You'll watch, grounder,” Thundercracker hissed into his audial. His grip was unrelenting and joined by a second clawed hand, this one grasping the back of Megatronus' neck.  
  
Megatronus growled a negative around the gag, not that it was comprehensible. But he kept his optics online. He forced himself to watch as Starscream shoved Orion on his spike again, thrusters spitting fire on the floor as he overloaded.  
  
Orion's intake worked rapidly, but he still struggled to swallow it all. His chassis heaved, ventilations stalling, and when Starscream removed himself, it was so a few more spurts could land on Orion's face, marking him.  
  
Orion coughed, his helm hanging, while Skywarp continued to take advantage of his valve. He slammed into Orion, bouncing Orion on his dark spike, the purple biolights vanishing into Orion over and over. His fingers were merciless on Orion's nub, pinching and slapping. Surely, there there was no pleasure in it. And yet, for the first time since meeting Orion, Megatronus was treated to the sight of him in mid-overload.  
  
There was no enjoyment in it. Megatronus' tank churned.  
  
Orion sucked in heaving ventilations, a mixture of oral lubricant and transfluid seeping from the corner of his mouth. His shoulders shook. His frame spasmed. His valve spat lubricant on Skywarp's spike. His engine whined.  
  
Starscream stood back, absently palming his spike, as he watched his trinemate take Orion's valve with increasing intensity.  
  
“You wanted him, didn't you?” Thundercracker asked, his vocals low but as he was speaking into Megatronus' audial, he couldn't miss them. “Were you in love with him?”  
  
Megatronus was glad for the gag. It prevented him from speaking and gave him an excuse to avoid the question. But he couldn't hide the shudder that rippled through his frame, or the low growl in his engine.  
  
Dead. He would see them all offline if it was the last thing he did.  
  
Thundercracker snickered and said nothing further.  
  
Skywarp moaned and bit down on Orion's intake as he overloaded, slapping his hand down on Orion's swollen nub. Orion jerked, but didn't throw himself away. He sagged into Skywarp's arms, a dull sheen to his optics. Skywarp purred and lapped at the denta marks on Orion's thin plating, smaller impressions giving proof that he'd done it multiple times already.  
  
“Tight, you say,” Starscream asked. His fingers flirted with his spike, still rigid despite his recent overload. “Too tight to take us both?”  
  
Skywarp's optics lit with approval. “Oh, we'll fit.” He sucked in a ventilation and squirmed behind Orion. “Can we try? Please, tell me we can try.” He nibbled on Orion's intake. “You can take us, can't you, pet?”  
  
Megatronus' hands tightened into painful fists.  
  
Thundercracker chuckled. “Valves are more flexible than you think. You'll fit.” He let go of Megatronus' helm and gave him a condescending pat. “And if you don't, this one here is large enough.”  
  
Orion lifted his helm, his optics darting Megatronus' direction before hurrying away again. His faceplate colored and Megatronus could read his shame, even without sensing Orion's field. He saw Orion try to bring his knees together, despite Skywarp keeping them spread wide. Orion tried to angle his frame as though hiding.  
  
“I'll keep that in mind. Skywarp, remove the cuffs and clean him up.” Starscream leaned down and pushed a thumb into Orion's mouth. “You did well. You deserve a reward.” He let Orion go and spun on a thruster, striding away.  
  
“Lucky you,” Skywarp purred and nipped at Orion's audial.  
  
He put his hands on Orion's hips and lifted Orion off his lap, a sticky mess trickling from Orion's valve. One hand fiddled behind Orion and Megatronus heard the click of cuffs being released before Orion's arms sagged at his side. Skywarp also disconnected his collar from the overhanging chain.  
  
Yet, Orion didn't fight. He didn't turn and strike Skywarp. All he did was dim his optics and look away as Skywarp manipulated his frame however the Seeker saw fit. He left Orion there on the floor, gingerly moving his limbs, and retrieved a stool.  
  
Skywarp picked Orion up as though he weighed nothing and sat down on the stool, Orion straddling his lap, only this time facing Skywarp. Fluids continued to drip out of Orion's valve, his legs splayed obscenely wide around the Seeker's much broader hips. He shuddered as Skywarp stroked his back and pulled him in for a kiss.  
  
“I don't know why you insist on doing that,” Thundercracker said with a disgusted tone. He shifted next to Megatronus, his arms crossed over his chassis.  
  
“I like kissing,” Skywarp said against Orion's mouth. “He even tastes like Starscream right now.”  
  
Thundercracker sighed and scraped a palm down his faceplate.  
  
Skywarp ignored him, continuing to molest Orion as though it was his right. His hands cupped Orion's aft, tugging him closer, a position that would have been intimate given different circumstances. One hand pushed between Orion's legs, shoving four fingers into Orion's valve without ceremony.  
  
Orion shuddered, making a pitiful noise in the back of his intake. His helm sagged, resting his forehelm on Skywarp's collar strut. His shoulders curled inward, his hands clasped in his lap.  
  
He could fight! He could strike Skywarp! There was nothing to hold him back! Megatronus did not understand why he did not do so.  
  
Frustrated, Megatronus looked around. Thundercracker wasn't paying him a bit of attention. His gaze shifted to his bonds. The chain held his arms taut and was locked to the cuffs around his wrists. They, too, had been tightened to the point of discomfort. The chain itself was looped above him on a roof support beam.  
  
He could stand, Megatronus realized. They had him on his knees. If he could stand, take down Thundercracker, and get enough momentum going, the force might break the chains. They'd emptied his subspace and checked the obvious places on his frame, but they'd missed the vibroblade he had tucked near his spark chamber.  
  
Thank you, Jazz.  
  
There was movement in his peripheral vision. Starscream had returned, carrying a glittering glass filled with energon. It was a pure pink, the finest quality. He sipped from it, making an approving noise, before he approached Skywarp and Orion.  
  
“Starting without me?” he asked.  
  
“Getting him ready,” Skywarp replied, nuzzling his helm against Orion's. “Look what Starscream brought you, Orion. It's your reward.”  
  
Orion lifted his helm as Starscream pressed up against him from behind. Starscream reached around, cupping Orion's chin and tilting his helm back.  
  
“Open,” he said and Orion's lips parted. He looked up at Starscream upside-down and held still as Starscream held the glass over his lips. “You spill a drop and you forfeit your ration. Understood.”  
  
“Yes, Winglord,” Orion said, his vocals soft. Beaten.  
  
Megatronus ached to hear him.  
  
“Good pet.” Starscream tipped the cup and drizzled the energon into Orion's mouth.  
  
Orion drank it obediently, careful not to miss a drop. His frame shook as the delicate energon hit his tanks. It probably wasn't nearly enough to make up for the energy he needed.  
  
All the Seekers were doing was teasing him.  
  
Starscream poured the last into Orion's mouth and tucked the glass into a side panel. “What do you say, pet?” he asked as his thumb rubbed over Orion's bottom lip.  
  
Orion lowered his helm a little, looking up at Starscream. “Thank you, Master,” he said and his glossa flicked out against Starscream's finger.  
  
Skywarp chuckled and leaned forward, nibbling at Orion's intake. “He's doing very well,” he purred and cupped Orion's aft. He pulled Orion forward, rubbing the tip of his spike against Orion's aft and valve. “Come on, Star. I'm ready to share him with you.”  
  
Starscream's optics flashed but he made a thoughtful noise. “If you insist, impatient one. I'll allow you the honor of going first.”  
  
Skywarp's wings twitched with glee. He mouthed at Orion's intake some more and then adjusted Orion on his lap. Megatronus knew the moment he'd slid home because Orion shuddered, his hands clutching Skywarp's shoulders. His backstrut arched. His pedes kicked at the chair.  
  
“Ahhh, he's still so tight,” Skywarp moaned and nuzzled against Orion's helm.  
  
“He had better be.” Starscream flicked a finger against Orion's antennae, provoking another shudder. “Move.”  
  
“Now who's impatient,” Skywarp grumbled, but he leaned back, pulling Orion with him.  
  
Orion cradled against his front, helm pillowed on Skywarp's shoulder. He looked toward Megatronus, or rather, looked through him. His optics were dim and unfocused, for all that they were pointed in Megatronus' direction. His hands creaked, so tightly did they grip on Skywarp's shoulders. But he said nothing as Skywarp gripped his thighs, spreading him wide for Starscream to nudge between, one hand stroking his spike.  
  
Skywarp's rapid ventilations were loud. As were Starscream's. By contrast, Orion's shallow vents were soft, barely audible. A faint tremble wracked his frame. He visibly flinched as Starscream grabbed his hips and aimed at his valve, spike nosing at his already stretched valve.  
  
Megatronus could not see given his current angle. He had only the look on Orion's face to go by. The way his bright optics dulled to a color Megatronus had only seen in those near-deactivation. The way Orion's faceplate lost all color and his expression pulled inward. The way his armor clamped down tightly. The way a low keen built in his vocalizer.  
  
Starscream forced himself in alongside Skywarp. The two Seekers smirked. Their wings fluttered. Their fields flooded the room with ecstasy. Even Thundercracker shifted beside Megatronus, his own field extending to meet theirs.  
  
“I will get my turn,” he said.  
  
Megatronus growled. None of them paid him a bit of attention.  
  
Starscream purred his pleasure. Skywarp smirked. They wasted no time, giving Orion little opportunity to adjust. They thrust into him in varying rhythms. The slap and screech of metal on metal echoed around the high ceiling of the penthouse.  
  
The two Seekers rutted like beasts, taking Orion hard. He barely made a sound, save for small pained noises. He shivered. His plating clattered. They treated him like a toy, an object for their pleasure.  
  
Megatronus' tank churned. The stories of the Seekers, always told like monsters from the Pit, like Unicron, now seemed to carry truth. He would see them pay.  
  
He offlined his optics. He looked away. Thundercracker either did not care or notice because Megatronus was not punished for doing so. He contemplated deactivating his audials as well, but feared the lack of warning.  
  
He did not know which was worse, the sight or the sound.  
  
It did not take long for Starscream or Skywarp to overload. Megatronus did not know who spilled into Orion first. Skywarp perhaps. But when he onlined his optics again, Starscream had splattered himself on Orion's back and aft and left his mark behind. He'd stepped back, a smirk on his face. Lubricant and fluid dripped from Orion's valve.  
  
Orion's optics were so dim as to be offline. He was conscious and functioning, Megatronus knew this much. But whether or not he was truly aware, Megatronus was not sure.  
  
“Awww,” Skywarp said as he tilted Orion back and peered into Orion's face. “I think we broke him.”  
  
Starscream stroked his still-pressurized spike and turned toward Megatronus. His optics flicked over Megatronus from helm to pede, lips curving upward. “Leave him,” he said and stalked Megatronus' direction, spike dripping to the floor. “We have another.”  
  
“Orion's my favorite though,” Skywarp said. But he obeyed, sliding Orion off his spike and laying him on the floor.  
  
He made a halfway token effort of cuffing Orion's wrists together, but for the most part, didn't bother to restrain him. Perhaps there was little point because Orion barely moved. His chassis shifted, proving his vents cycled. Fluids leaked from his valve, and he hadn't bothered to close his panel. If he even had a panel.  
  
Skywarp stood up, lubricant and transfluid staining his hips and thighs. He made a half-sparked effort to wipe it away before shrugging.  
  
And then Megatronus couldn't pay Skywarp any more attention because Starscream was standing in front of him. The Winglord crouched a little, leaning in so close Megatronus could scent his ex-vents. One clawed finger slid under the strap of his gag, snapping it against his facial plate.  
  
“I suspect you will be far more difficult to tame,” Starscream said. One talon scraped at Megatronus' cheek, metal chiming on metal. “There is a fire in your optics that Orion did not carry.” He tilted his helm and gripped Megatronus' chin, forcing his helm to the side. His thumb stroked just under Megatronus' audial. “But I will break you all the same.”  
  
Megatronus' engine growled.  
  
He curled his lips, visible around the gag, and let that serve as a means to show his anger. They had taken his words from him, but he was not helpless.  
  
His hands curled into fists. Let them loose these chains by even a fraction.  
  
Starscream chuckled. “I admire your spirit.” He let go of Megatronus' chin and straightened, staring down at him. “The gag stays on. I do not trust those denta.”  
  
Skywarp came up beside his trinemate, planting his hands on his hips. He frowned. “I don't like this one. He's not as pretty as Orion.”  
  
“Then you don't have to play with him,” Thundercracker said, sounding irritated. Given the lust and heat pouring from his field, it was probably due to a build up of charge.  
  
“I'll watch for now,” Skywarp said.  
  
“If you insist.” Starscream's glossa flicked over his lips.  
  
Thundercracker stepped out of Megatronus' view. He could still feel the blue Seeker's field, however, and knew that Thundercracker was behind him.  
  
“These chains are a nuisance,” Thundercracker said.  
  
Megatronus' frame tensed. Yes. Let them loosen and/or remove the bonds. It would be all the chance Megatronus needed. He prepped his hydraulics but kept his expression neutral. Other than the hate. Such would be expected of him. He wouldn't make a play for the gag first. He could fight while wearing it and every second would count.  
  
Starscream snorted a ventilation. “Then remove them. I think you and I can handle one wild grounder, don't you?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
There a click, a feeling of slack, in the chains, and Megatronus decided he was going to take whatever chance they gave him. He yanked his arms down and threw himself to the side, a cry of shock escaping him as his legs refused to obey as quickly as he commanded them. From the knees down, his systems tingled, reporting a fifty percent decrease in mobility.  
  
Those slaggers!  
  
Megatronus hit the floor, barely catching himself with his hands. The cuffs remained around his wrists, though they were no longer connected. They were heavier than he expected, too.  
  
The Winglord laughed.  
  
A pede landed in the middle of his back, shoving him down. Megatronus' arm stabilizer creaked as he tried to keep his torso up off the floor. The weight above him should have been nothing compared to the mines, but he couldn't get his knees beneath him.  
  
“I applaud your effort.” Pedesteps echoed across the floor and then came into his peripheral vision – gray, the Winglord. “Pointless as it was.”  
  
Megatronus growled.  
  
“This is going to be more fun than I expected,” Thundercracker said from above Megatronus. His weight shifted on Megatronus' back.  
  
The Winglord moved around Megatronus with a thoughtful hum. “You may be right, Thundercracker.” The vibrations of his pedefalls echoed through the floor. Megatronus tracked them with internal sensors.  
  
Suddenly, the weight above him vanished. Megatronus braced himself to take off again, but a hand wrapped around his neck from behind. He gasped a ventilation at the unexpectedly firm grip, feeling claws prickle into his dermal plating. He swung a hand behind him, only for it to be grabbed and jerked up against his backstrut. Something in his shoulder went snap and pain lanced through his frame.  
  
Megatronus howled into the gag as his entire arm went limp and numb.  
  
“You broke it,” a voice observed. Megatronus thought it might have been Skywarp.  
  
“He'll repair. I hear that miners are good for it.”  
  
Megatronus' vents sent a huff of heated air against the floor. He tried to tilt away from the pressure on both his arm and neck, but there was no give to the grip. His free hand pushed against the floor in vain.  
  
There was a scuffle of movement behind them. His sensors registered a presence between his pedes, which then moved further up. Two kicks forced his thighs wider, putting the panels concealing his spike and valve into view. Megatronus tried to drag his legs back together, but someone knelt down between his thighs, wedging him open.  
  
“Now why don't we see what he has to offer?” The Winglord purred.  
  
Fingers rubbed at Megatronus' panel, lacking the delicate touch of a lover, but not forcefully enough to damage.  
  
“You have a choice, grounder,” Starscream continued as his fingers dragged along Megatronus' seams. “You can open for me and keep your panels. Or I can permanently remove them the hard way. You have five seconds to decide.”  
  
What had Orion done?  
  
Megatronus could barely see his best friend from his current position, but he could hear Orion shaking and could hear his rattling ventilations. The smell of transfluid and charged ions was thick in the air.  
  
Starscream rubbed harder at his panel.  
  
Thundercracker snickered. “You and your choices.”  
  
Starscream's fingers slid into a seam, wedging against the thinner dermal metal. His claws prickled with warning.  
  
Megatronus snapped the panel aside, nausea coiling in his tanks. He would rather have the illusion of choice than none at all. Pain was inevitable.  
  
“Thank you,” Starscream said as two fingers flirted around the edge of Megatronus' valve. Starscream flicked over his anterior node, making Megatronus jerk, and then slid two fingers into Megatronus' valve.  
  
He cringed, burying his face in the floor.  
  
Starscream breathed a ventilation. “Oh, you are tight,” he said. “I take it this rarely sees any use? Such a shame.” His fingers worked deeper, scraping along the inside of Megatronus' valve. He was not lubricated at all and felt the rasping push of Starscream's fingers like a raw rub against dermal mesh.  
  
Megatronus' free hand curled into a fist. He grunted, letting loathing free into his field to battle against his attackers.  
  
“I don't think it's fond of that,” Thundercracker observed, humor rich in his voice.  
  
“He'll be even less fond of what else I have planned.” Starscream removed his fingers and Megatronus heard the shift of hydraulics as he rose to his pedes. “Get him up.”  
  
The hold on his neck loosened while the fingers around his arm increased their grip. He felt the weight above him shift, and Megatronus knew he wouldn't get another chance but this one. He ignored the pain; he ignored the indignity. He threw himself onto his side, toward his aching shoulder, and kicked upward and out. He lashed out with an elbow, blinding aiming behind him.  
  
His vision spun. He felt his pede connect with something. And then his helm slammed into the floor, sending his processor into a loop. Megatronus groaned into the gag, fighting the surge of nausea from his tanks. His gyros tilted unpleasantly.  
  
Fingers wrapped around his free hand, twisting it up against his spinal strut just like the other. His joints groaned, his shoulder creaked, but it didn't snap like the other. A painful pressure had Megatronus bowing forward, even as they hauled him up and to his knees. He gasped, pulling in a desperate ventilations as his torso hung forward.  
  
Pedes kicked his knees apart, putting him further off-balance. He tried to squirm backward, but fire was racing through his shoulders and his helm wouldn't stop spinning. His visual feed was splintered as well. Had they cracked his optics?  
  
Clawed fingers dug into the sides of his intake.  
  
“That was a poor attempt at escape,” the Winglord said, his vocals easy to identify even if his face was only a blur to Megatronus.  
  
He growled around the gag, trying to glare, but it was hard to be stubborn with the dizziness. He couldn't focus; the world kept spinning.  
  
The hands around his wrists were like iron clamps, impossible to remove. No. Wait. They'd reconnected the shackles around his wrists at that agonizing angle, and Megatronus couldn't move his arms.  
  
There were hands on his hips now, stroking over the thick plating. Claws slipped into his seams, poking at the cables and protoform beneath. A frame notched against his aft, burning hot. Megatronus would have turned to look, but Starscream's grip on his face was relentless. He twisted his frame by knees alone, trying to wrench his way free, though it didn't work.  
  
“You know,” Thundercracker said, his tone conversational, but his grip tightening on Megatronus' hips. His claws poked at Megatronus' protoform, drawing energon. “I don't think it's tame enough to play with yet, Starscream. It needs some domesticating.”  
  
Starscream released his hold on Megatronus' chin and laid his hand on the top of Megatronus' helm. “I know that tone of voice. What did you have in mind?” His fingers slid away, though the impression of their weight remained.  
  
Thundercracker's dark chuckle sent a cold shiver down Megatronus' backstrut. “Skywarp, be a dear and fetch me that crate that arrived today?”  
  
“The one you wouldn't let me open?” Skywarp sounded absolutely gleeful.  
  
“The very same.”  
  
“Finally!” Skywarp gave a whoop of glee and Megatronus expected to hear him running or even a roar of thrusters. Instead there was a strange buzzing vop! before the number of energy fields Megatronus could sense dropped by one.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“You'll see.” Thundercracker's hand dipped between Megatronus' legs, two fingers shoving into his valve with little ceremony. “I ordered it for our other pet, but I think this one will play with it better.”  
  
“Mmm. Now I'm intrigued.”  
  
The static cleared from Megatronus' sensory suite just as something in the air tingled and Skywarp appeared out of thin air, carrying a crate. Megatronus' jaw would have dropped if he weren't gagged. He didn't know the Seekers could do that! Perhaps his optics still weren't working after all.  
  
“Here it is!” Skywarp all but bounced as he deposited the crate in front of Thundercracker. He knelt down beside it and pried at the lid with his claws. “I can open it right?” he asked as he tore off the lid and tossed it aside. His optics lit up with glee. “Is this what I think it is?”  
  
Thundercracker jammed a third finger into Megatronus' valve, the tips of his claws scraping against the metalmesh lining. Megatronus winced and grunted, not that any of them paid him attention. He tried to look at Orion but could only see his friend's pedes. Orion hadn't moved from where they left him  
  
“Set it up for me,” Thundercracker said as he removed his fingers from Megatronus' valve and wiped them on Megatronus' aft.  
  
He rose to his pedes and for a moment, no one was touching Megatronus. There were no unwelcome hands on his frame, just the unpleasant pinch and drag of the cuffs on his wrists and the pain in his shoulders. He tried to turn his frame and see what they were doing, but they were just out of his peripheral vision.  
  
He heard packaging rustling. He heard Skywarp giggle and Thundercracker's engine rumble and Starscream keep his silence. He should probably try to run, but where would he go and how? Would he leave Orion behind? It wasn't as though he'd be able to rouse those cowards underneath to stand up and fight.  
  
What could he do alone?  
  
Pedesteps echoed across the floor, felt through his knees. They came up behind Megatronus and kicked his knees further apart. Megatronus over-balanced and almost tipped forward, were it not for Starscream stepping in front of him, gripping his chin.  
  
He looked into Megatronus' optics with a smirk that did not spell anything pleasant. “You are a fighter,” he purred. “I can see it in your optics. I wonder how long you'll hold out.”  
  
Megatronus narrowed his optics. He glared back. It was all the reaction he would show, until he heard a clatter and then felt something nudge at his valve. It was cold and rounded, just larger than was comfortable. Hands landed on his hips as the cold objected rested against his valve rim.  
  
“Sit,” Thundercracker said, and he pulled down on Megatronus' hips, forcing him down onto the object.  
  
It was, Megatronus realized with a pained groan and a tight clench of his valve, a false spike. A massive one, too. One he could have taken painlessly if given the time to stretch and touch him properly. But as it was, his calipers screamed damage at him, his barely lubricated valve spat fire, and the large toy notched right against his ceiling node. His aft was flush with some kind of platform, keeping him on his knees and the spike firmly lodged in his valve.  
  
And then it started to vibrate.  
  
Megatronus groaned, his frame tilting forward, an attempt to get away from the spike. It rose out of him by an inch or two until Thundercracker shoved him back down, holding him in place. He heard the rattle of a chain and something clinked around his wrist shackles. The next time Megatronus leaned forward, something pulled at his wrist and shoulders. He couldn't move off the toy.  
  
“Stay.” Thundercracker chuckled and reached around Megatronus' frame, fingers finding and pinching Megatronus' anterior node.  
  
He startled, frame instinctively jerking away from Thundercracher's touch, but all that did was drive the vibrating spike within him at a different angle.  
  
Thundercracker chuckled, both arms encircling Megatronus now. One continued to rub at his anterior node, sending jolts of pleasure through his stinging valve. The other curled around his traitorous spike, giving it several long strokes. Megatronus offlined his optics, refusing to let Starscream see even a hint of pleasure.  
  
Thundercracker slid something around his spike, magnetizing it to the base, and Megatronus' spike throbbed in denied satisfaction. Megatronus' optics snapped back online in shock.  
  
What the frag?  
  
“Do good and maybe I'll let you overload,” Thundercracker said with a pat to his throbbing nub. “It's all ready for your use, Starscream.”  
  
“Much obliged,” Starscream said and he smirked again.  
  
He released Megatronus' chin and straightened. His spike bobbed in the air, transfluid beading at the tip. Lubricant slicked down his thighs. The scent of his arousal was particularly strong, invading Megatronus' chemical sensors.  
  
“Now to see if you're worth anything, grounder,” Starscream said.  
  
Thundercracker's hands vanished as Starscream lowered himself over Megatronus' lap, straddling Megatronus as though he meant to take Megatronus inside of him. He threw his arms over Megatronus' shoulders and rolled his hips, valve dripping lubricant down on top of Megatronus' spike. The plush folds of his valve teased Megatronus' unit.  
  
He sank down and Megatronus couldn't hide his groan of shock. His spike was enveloped in a tight, hot grasp. It clenched down on him, calipers rippling in a steady wave that delighted every receptor on his spike.  
  
Starscream gave a little shudder of pleasure. “Mm, yes,” he said with a soft sigh. “This will do quite nicely.” He rolled his hips, sinking down fully on Megatronus' spike until their frames were flush. A shiver rippled across his frame. “You have a nice spike, for a dirtkisser.”  
  
Megatronus growled.  
  
Starscream chuckled and began to rock himself on Megatronus' spike, circling his hips and rising and falling in tiny loops. Charge crackled from his valve, zapping at the receptors on Megatronus' spike. Megatronus turned his helm away, unwilling to watch as Starscream used him like a toy, his valve squeezing and gripping with wanton pleasure.  
  
“I don't care if you look at me or not, grounder,” Starscream said with a hot ex-vent. “You'll learn your place.”  
  
Megatronus' tank churned.  
  
No amount of nausea or disgust, however, stopped the pleasure from wracking his valve as the toy continued to work itself without pause. It vibrated and rolled against every one of his nodes. Lubricant welled up around it and when Starscream squeezed his valve again, Megatronus overloaded, clamping down on the toy. His spike throbbed from denied release and ached behind the confines of the ring.  
  
Starscream's wings shivered. His claws pricked at Megatronus' protoform. He leaned forward, rubbing his spike against Megatronus' ventrum. The wet tip painted streaks of pre-fluid against Megatronus' plating. Starscream made little humming noises in his intake and Megatronus counted down the seconds until the Winglord finally overloaded, his spike striping Megatronus' ventrum and his valve letting loose a wave of charge.  
  
He moaned, long and low, and Megatronus shuddered with disgust.  
  
Starscream circled his hips a few more times, dragging out the overload, before he chuckled and pushed himself to his pedes.  
  
“Adequate,” he said with a touch to his anterior node. “You'll do better next time.”  
  
Megatronus glared at him, his engine growling.  
  
“My turn next!” Skywarp said, all but bouncing in place.  
  
“Thought you weren't interested,” Thundercracker said.  
  
“Can't I change my mind?”  
  
Skywarp strutted over and dropped himself down on Megatronus' spike without so much as an introduction. His valve swallowed Megatronus' spike whole, eagerly clenching down and rippling.  
  
Megatronus grunted as Skywarp set into a fast pace, working himself on Megatronus' spike with visible enthusiasm. He shivered and moaned.  
  
“Ooo, Star. You're right. This is good.”  
  
Another overload stole Megatronus' ventilations and sent his optical feed fritzing. He hung his helm, panting air through his vents. His cooling fans kicked on.  
  
“I'll make it better,” Thundercracker said.  
  
There was a click and suddenly, the toy in Megatronus' valve started to move along with the vibration. It pumped up and down, slow and steady. It thickened until it filled him up, putting a steady pressure against his inner valve nodes. Charge danced through Megatronus' valve without his permission.  
  
He shuddered and moaned. His field was thick with disgust and pleasure both.  
  
“Ooo,” Skywarp whimpered and rolled his hips harder. “That is better.”  
  
He rolled and rocked. He worked himself over Megatronus' spike as though he hadn't already had several overloads today. He rode Megatronus through a third, or perhaps it was fourth, overload and then overloaded himself.  
  
Panting, Skywarp winked at Megatronus and planted a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Maybe you'll behave enough later that we can take this off?” he murmured before disengaging from Megatronus' spike, leaving a flood of lubricant behind.  
  
Megatronus' tank rolled. His thoughts spun more and more. Each overload stole a percentage of his energy. It sent his internal temperature skyrocketing. The false spike pumped into him, again and again, dragging across nodes so sensitive that it hurt.  
  
Megatronus hoped to be left alone. But Starscream returned, ready for a second round, and it started all over again.  
  
In that moment, Megatronus understood Orion's lassitude.  
  
He lost count of the overloads. His valve ached. Lubricant soaked the object beneath him, forming a puddle on the floor. His calipers twitched, more pain than pleasure. Energy cycled up again, rising to the demand of the vibrating false spike and the wet clasp of another valve on his own spike. Several nodes burnt out and the scraping of the toy against them sent a raw ache through his system.  
  
His vision blurred. He didn't know if the Seeker riding him was black or blue or tri-colored. It didn't really matter.  
  
Megatronus' energy levels dropped lower and lower. His thoughts spun in his helm. He overloaded again, and again. His engine whined and his vents screamed. His frame was nothing more than a toy for their amusement. He had no control of himself.  
  
Another overload tore a pitiful rumble from his engine and a whine from his vocalizer. Megatronus sagged, helm tilting forward. He couldn't feel his hands or his pedes. His knees ached. Charge nipped at his valve sensors like scraplet bites.  
  
His world spun.  
  
Was this to be his future? A toy for a trio of winged monsters?  
  
The weight on his thighs vanished and nothing replaced it.  
  
Megatronus tried to rouse himself. He fought for coherence. His visual feed continued to fizz with static. But his proximity sensors reported... nothing?  
  
He rebooted his optics twice. The smell of interfacing was so thick as to make him ill. He was overheated and covered in fluids. But his valve continued to ripple and his spike continued to throb in the chilly air.  
  
“--done?”  
  
His audials fought against a wave of static.  
  
“We do have work to do,” Starscream was saying in a snide tone.  
  
Shadows shifted. Megatronus rebooted his optics and got fuzzy shapes. He panted, drawing in gulp after gulp of tepid air. His cooling fans spun so fast that he swore the rotors gave off smoke.  
  
The pumping action of the machine stopped. The vibrations eased to a dull buzz, not enough to elicit pleasure, but just enough to keep his nodes active. Still, a wave of relief struck Megatronus' frame and he sagged. He waited for them to remove the spike ring as well, but that didn't happen.  
  
He heard chains rattling and his sensors registered movement. Two more reboots of his sensory suite and finally, he had a visual feed to go with his audio feed.  
  
They were moving Orion into Megatronus' view. They'd attached a chain to the collar around his neck but they'd removed his shackles. Not that Orion did much more than sit on the floor, the perfect picture of meek and obedient.  
  
Megatronus waited for them to tend to him. It never came. Skywarp swooped down to steal a kiss from Orion, one that he didn't resist, and then the three Seekers swept from the room, clicking to each other in their incomprehensible dialect. Their wings fluttered as they walked out of Megatronus' sight and the lights in the massive room dimmed.  
  
They'd left him like this. Wrists bound behind his back. Shoulders numb and aching. The vibrator buzzing away in his valve. The ring on his spike. The gag in his mouth.  
  
Megatronus' engine growled tiredly.  
  
Silence fell. Except for the snuffling of Orion's ventilations and the tiny tremors of his plating and the dull vibration of the toy in Megatronus' valve. He shifted, but there was no direction that brought him comfort. Eventually, he would overload again. He could only wait out the agony.  
  
Orion stirred. His optics onlined, not bright, but proving he was aware. His gaze turned in Megatronus' direction, but it was downcast.  
  
Ashamed.  
  
“Megatronus?”  
  
Orion's vocals were hoarse and full of static. His optics were dim and unfocused. All Megatronus could do was meet his gaze and incline his helm, prove that he was listening.  
  
Orion shifted. His vents stuttered. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. His vocals filled with static again. Megatronus heard the click of a reboot. “You shouldn't have come for me. I'm sorry.”  
  
_You idiot. Of course I came._  
  
He couldn't say as much, however. And Megatronus' engine growled his frustration, which of course Orion completely misinterpreted.  
  
“This is all my fault,” he said, absolutely miserable. He crawled a bit closer, but the chain brought him up short. “I'm sorry.” His helm ducked. His optics shuttered. “I'm sorry.”  
  
He repeated it again and again, as if stuck on a loop. Megatronus' hands clenched into fists. He couldn't speak. Couldn't say anything in return.  
  
Couldn't do anything as Orion's vents hitched and his frame shook and his field crept into the massive room with all the agony of weeks spent in the captivity of the Seekers.  
  
_I'm going to get us out of here_ , Megatronus vowed, though Orion couldn't hear him.  
  
These Seekers weren't infallible. They were vain and they were arrogant. All Megatronus needed was a moment. A chance. They would slip up eventually.  
  
And he would make them pay.  
  
Orion's low sobs were the last thing Megatronus heard as one more overload knocked him into darkness.  
  


****


End file.
